


The Avengers and Bucky QueerEye Steve

by AceBij



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Bucky Barnes has long hair, Bucky is Jonathan Van Ness, Chubby bucky barnes, Clint is Antoni sort of, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and some very mild angst, I love Jonathan, Like I assigned Queer Eye personalities to each Avenger and here we are, Little bit funny maybe?, M/M, Natasha is the friend/family member who calls queereye for help, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Queer Eye sort of, Sam is Karamo, Steve Rogers Has PTSD, Steve is obviously the one who needs help, Thank you Queer Eye, Thor is Bobby, Tony is Tan, almost forgot, flangst, queer eye
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-26
Updated: 2019-08-26
Packaged: 2020-09-27 06:33:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20403253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AceBij/pseuds/AceBij
Summary: Steve isn't doing so hot in the future and that's okay, right? Except that no one else agrees and they all QueerEye him.





	The Avengers and Bucky QueerEye Steve

**Author's Note:**

> Started watching Queereye and I can't even right now. Karamo's jacket collection is my life goal alongside petting Jonathan Van Ness. I have birthed this because of them.

Steve is bad at taking care of himself. He knows that. It’s just, it’s hard, with everything that been going on. First, there were his health problems that the serum fixed. Then, the war, crashing and waking up 70 years later in a world he never thought he’d see. With aliens and evil robots and there was so much to do! It wasn’t entirely his fault if he didn’t have much time to do anything other than react to all these threats instead of processing as he should. He’ll get to it eventually, he thinks.

He knows he has PTSD. Which makes it hard for him to get up sometimes. Today is one of those bad days. He blinks blearily at the red digits of his clock and rolls over. And then stays there for the rest of the day. 

Steve doesn’t register how long he tosses and turns until Natasha comes to get him for the weekly team bonding night. He makes himself go though he barely speaks to any of his teammates. Even Sam doesn’t try to banter with him as much. 

He begs off after dinner, mumbling something about being tired. Nat purses her lips but doesn’t say anything about him lying in bed all day already. He ignores her look. 

*

Two days later, after a minor battle with yet another wannabe megalomaniac, Steve is told to come to the tower’s common room for a team meeting. He goes after a shower and finds himself the last to arrive.

“Have a seat, Steve,” Nat tells him rather magnanimously. He sits. “Let’s begin.”

To Steve, it sounded ominous, but none of the other Avengers seemed to mind so he doesn’t say anything and waits. Sam starts to speak.

“Steve,” he begins, there’s a little furrow between his brows. “You’re part of this group. We all love you and want what’s best for you, you know that right?”

Whatever was happening was weird and it was starting to sound like an intervention. He nodded.

Tony interjects at Steve’s look. “What Falcon means to say, Cap, is that you are not okay, and we want to help.” 

So, it is an intervention. Steve shakes his head. He’s fine. He really is. Everyone has bad days and that’s normal. Isn’t it? “I’m fine,” he insists. “I don’t need any help. I’m dealing with it.” It stings a little that his team doesn’t believe in him.

“Steve,” Sam starts again. But Natasha interjects.

“He’s fine,” she says. Her tone is final. “Leave him alone.”

Obediently, Tony and Clint get up to leave with her. It’s suspicious. Thor claps him on the shoulder and follows them out. Sam is last to leave the room, but he turns to look at Steve when he’s at the door.

“In our line of work, we all need a little help, Steve. For me, that’s our morning runs. It helps to be around family. I’m not ashamed of that.” 

Steve doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t know what to say. Sam leaves.

*

It takes a couple of days before Steve finally cracks and sends Nat a text saying, ‘Help me’. Which is followed by ‘To get better at taking care of me. I’m not in danger!’ when he realises how his first message must read. 

Five minutes later, Thor is pounding on his door. Steve would’ve grabbed the shield if weren’t for the jolly “Hello, Steven! It is I, Thor, Son of Odin.” behind his door. He lets Thor in and is wrapped in a bone-crushing embrace that smells like mountains and fresh springs and ozone. Thor gives great hugs. 

“Hey, Thor,” he smiles. 

“How are you faring, my friend?” Thor grins brightly. 

Steve ducks his head. “I’m, well, trying to learn how to be better, I guess,” he says. “It’s good to see you.”

Thor squeezes his shoulder. “And I, you, my friend.” He claps Steve on the back and stands in the living room, hands on his hips. “Come. Let us begin.” Steve follows.

He’s surprised to learn that Thor plans to redesign his apartment. Steve didn’t think his living space would affect him, but he supposes he could be wrong since he doesn’t exactly know how to take care of himself. He’s glad to see Thor, though he had no idea Thor was well-versed in interior design. “It is a hobby I acquired, to balance out my other pastime of glorious battles, friend Steven,” he says. Steve nods in understanding. “It’s good to create rather than destroy with our hands,” he explains in a knowingly soft voice. Steve gives him a small smile and Thor grins at him, wide and happy.

“Do you lounge, friend Steven?” Thor asks curiously.

“Lounge?” he repeats in confusion.

“Indeed,” Thor confirms as he studies the décor on Steve’s walls. “Loki loves to lounge. I made him a chaise longue in my section of the palace for when he comes to call.” 

“Oh, I,” Steve flounders. “I don’t do it much, but I guess I could.” 

“Excellent!” Thor booms. “I will make you a chaise lounge from the trees of Asgard to replace this lump!”

Steve barely gets a word out before Thor declares himself done with the inspection and leaves to go build him a new couch. Steve pats his current couch lump and goes to make himself some lunch. Thor is fun.

*

He meets Sam in central park after lunch. They stop to sit on a bench and Sam tells Steve to describe the colours he sees. Steve doesn’t get it but complies with the request. Counting the colours makes Sam smile and Steve is confused until Sam points out that he didn’t look at his surroundings and immediately start to analyse the area for exit points and all that “Avengering stuff” as Sam puts it. 

Sam takes him to the VA centre where he also does some counselling for the veterans and shows Steve the classroom for art. Steve flushes at interrupting a room full of people who are trying to paint or draw and stuff, but most of the vets only glance at him before going back to their works. 

“No one will bother you here, Steve,” Sam tells him. “Everyone just wants to get better too.” Steve nods, he understands wanting peace. Sam gets him to do a 5-minute sketch of anyone and even times him. He makes a face at his rusty skills but shows Sam, who says it’s okay to have something other than Avengering as Captain America. 

And he doesn’t say anything when he hands back the sketch and Steve clutches a little too tightly to his first drawing in nearly 70 years. He stays quiet on their walk back and doesn’t see Sam texting Thor.

*

“Your presence is required in Mr Stark’s Lab, Captain Rogers,” informs JARVIS, when he steps into the elevators.

“Oh, um, okay,” Steve nods. “Alright, let’s uh, go then.” He lets JARVIS take him down to Tony’s lab, wondering why Tony would invite him now, when the last time he visited, Tony banned him from ever returning. On account of making his lab robots completely useless in his presence. Steve doesn’t know why Tony programmed his robots to be awestruck by Captain America either, but it’s cute.

He steps into Stark’s Lab when the elevator doors slide open with a pleasant ‘ding’. “Tony?” Steve calls out as he ventures further into the organised chaos of Tony’s workspace. “Tony, you called?”

Steve wanders closer to the centre of the room, looking out for Tony. He startles when the lights suddenly shut down and strobe lights began to flash. Tony steps out of an Iron Man suit in, well, a suit with arms wide open.

“Welcome, welcome, oh Captain my Captain!” he proclaims. “Today shall be the best day of your life! No thanks necessary, happy to do this anytime, of course.” 

Steve is reminded of Howard Stark’s flashy show in the Science Fair back in the 40s.

He places his hands on Steve’s shoulders. “Let’s begin.”

Tony pushes Steve onto a pedestal in his lab and touches the projected buttons in the air. The strobe lights turn down and a huge screen pops up instead. Steve waits to see what happens.

“JARVIS,” Tony calls.

“Yes, sir.”

“Light ‘em up.”

The huge screen projection begins to display a variety of styles that Steve has noticed from red carpets to coffeeshops.

“Wow.” He’s a little impressed, but he won’t tell Tony that, lest his ego further inflates with more flashy ideas.

“Yeah, you’re welcome, Capsicle.” Tony grins and waves at his lab space in general. “JARVIS will help you out from here. I’m just the piggybank. Hm, you want some Bacon, Steve?”

Steve turns eyes a little too wide towards Tony and shakes his head. “I’m good, er thanks. What do you mean JARVIS will help me from here?”

Tony is already tinkering with another piece of tech he found as he says, “I know flashy ain’t your style, Rogers. JARVIS will simulate the outfits you want to try out and you can do your online shopping from here. No paps, no harass. You’re welcome, again.”

“Yes, thank you, Tony. I really appreciate this. Um, do I have to do this here?”

“Hmm? Yeah yeah, whatever you say.” And Steve knows he’s lost his friend already.

“If I may, Sir, Mr Stark has set up the same programme in your living quarters and you can make your selection and purchases in the comfort of your own home. I can assist you in locating the perfect OOTD as is the current term in trend, of course.”

Steve nods. “Right. Okay. Let’s go to my place then.”

*

JARVIS takes Steve up to his suite and projects the same screen he saw in Tony’s lab. Steve nods and just randomly picks a look titled ‘Goth’. He nearly gives himself a shock when he sees his person being projected, in dark clothes with many straps and buckles and eyeliner and dark lipstick. 

“Oh!” Steve shakes his head. “It doesn’t look too bad but, I don’t think this is me?” He doesn’t know how to put makeup on anyway, although it shouldn’t be too hard for someone who likes drawing maybe?

“Sir, if I may, perhaps you could inform me of the desired vibe you are trying to achieve, and I can adjust the algorithm to suggest similar styles.”

Steve jumps at JARVIS’ disembodied voice and nods. “Yes. Yes, please. That would be helpful, JARVIS.”

“You’re much welcome, Sir. Please state your preferred vibes.”

“Right. Um, I could go with something comfortable, I guess? Maybe casual, something I can wear to get coffee. Er, no ironing required.” Steve chews on his lip in uncertainty. He doesn’t really know what to get, considering he only ever leaves the tower for missions. Which is kinda sad now that he thinks about it.

The screen flashes with an updated list of styles and looks at them curiously. The one labelled ‘hipster’ and shows himself in layers of clothes makes him ‘hm’ with interest and he tells JARVIS to save it for a second look. He sees another one in a cosy looking sweater and marks that one out too. 

“JARVIS, could I see something with a leather jacket?” Steve asks.

“Certainly, sir.” And the screen changes to show style ideas listed from Biker to Casual to Dominator.

Steve vetoed the Dominator look immediately. He didn’t particularly want to walk around in all leather. He already did that with his suit. Or close enough anyway. It was some special type of polyester that Tony had synthesised. He considered the Biker look and filed it away for if he ever decided to take his bike and go on a road trip. 

Under ‘Casual’ though, he figured he could easily pair a leather jacket with a simple T-shirt or a collared shirt and jeans if he wanted something for a friendly outing or a date. He flushed a little at thinking about a date. There wasn’t anyone he could date anyway. Being Captain America certainly had its pros and cons.

He had JARVIS put in an order for a few of the nice shirts and Tees he saw, as well as the flannel layers and cosy sweaters he filed away earlier. He also picked out a couple of jeans, thinking it would be good to have a spare in case anything happened, which was pretty common considering his line of work. Steve also bought a suit that Tony said he absolutely must have via JARVIS. He already vetoed the bright red and blue one that Tony had suggested. 

There sure were many choices to make in the future, thought Steve. Nothing like the 40s where every choice was made by necessity and wasn’t quite a choice after all. He supposed it was a good thing to have options as he drank his customary glass of water before bed. His friends meant well, and he truly appreciated the effort but it had been a really long day. 

Steve went to bed and hoped he had a dreamless night. He would appreciate that as much as he appreciated his friends, certainly.

*

Steve jerked awake, muscles tensed in anticipation for something. He stilled, waiting to figure out what woke him up. There was a thump in his living room, sounding like someone stubbed a toe, and muttered curses. He picked up his shield and flattened himself against the wall. Creeping out quietly, he comes face to face with a dog. 

“Lucky?” What was Clint’s golden retriever doing here?

Lucky barked and came to snuffle into Steve’s petting fingers, tail wagging happily. Steve smiled. Dogs were always adorable. 

“What is Clint up to do you know, huh Lucky?” Steve scritched at the spot under Lucky’s chin, grinning as the dog’s tongue lolled at him. “Who’s a good boy now? Who? You? Oh yes, you are!”

He only looked up when he heard the sound of a camera shutter, to see Clint pointing a phone camera at him. Steve rolled his eyes and kissed Lucky between the eyes before standing.

“What’s up, Clint?” 

Clint smiled through the doughnut he was chewing and said, “I’m taking you for lunch. We are gonna have the greatest food in the entire universe. Let’s move out!” 

Steve’s eyebrows rose. “Right. I’m gonna change.” He pulls some pants on and grabs a random Tee from his drawer, before following Clint out of the tower. 

*

Clint takes Steve to a pizza bar in Brooklyn. He walks right in like he owns the place and the staff greets them with an unusual amount of warmth; Steve thinks Clint might actually own this place. He’s taken to the kitchen where Clint announces that they will be making – he mouths something – Steve has no idea what is happening. Clint starts to gesture wildly and wow, Steve is so confused. He wonders if Clint’s activity is charades and why they have to do this in a kitchen.

“I said, we are making pizza,” Clint stage whispers and Lucky begins to bark and jump excitedly at their feet. “Aww, Lucky no. Not for you. We are doing this for Steve, remember?”

Lucky whines and Steve feels a little bad. “We are making pizza?” He pets Lucky’s head.

“Yeap,” Clint declares proudly. “We are gonna make some good pies together.”

Steve shrugs. “Alright.” He doesn’t know how this could help him; at least the result should prove to be delicious. 

They make their pizzas, feeding scraps of meat to Lucky now and then, and Clint tells Steve about how sometimes during team bonding night, they make dinner together and watch a movie. He doesn’t mention how Steve has never once joined them, although he does say that Thor wishes he could join them more often. There is a tiny lump in Steve’s throat at that. Thor isn’t always on Earth, but even he wishes to join. Steve’s mind recalls when he would join the Howling Commandos in their campfire antics as they froze their asses off fighting the war in Europe. He was their leader back then, and he was this team’s leader too. Perhaps, he could join them after all. Clint is quiet as he finishes his thoughts, smiling knowingly at Steve when he looks up from the dough that he kneads a little too hard. 

Steve clears his throat. “I’d like to come for the next bonding night.” 

Clint nods and throws Lucky a piece of ham. “We’d be delighted to see you there.”

*

Steve thinks the rest of the Avengers are done with him. But he realises his mistake when Natasha shows up in his temporary living room as he’s catching up on some British sitcom about people in IT. Nat takes him to a salon in Brooklyn, its location pretty close to the pizza bar that Clint took him to. She introduces him to Bucky, his stylist. Steve swallows around nothing, his mouth dry. 

Bucky is all gentle smiles and loose, silky hair that Steve really wants to sift through his fingers or put on paper. His low voice asking Steve to get comfortable in the chair makes Steve want to do...things. When he puts his hands on Steve’s shoulders and plays with the hair at his nape, Steve’s muscles forget to tense; like Bucky is the pied piper and Steve is just a rat enthralled by the melody of his voice. 

He closes his eyes unwittingly when Bucky massages his scalp and Steve thinks Bucky may have called him a cat. He doesn’t particularly care when he would gladly be Bucky’s personal kitten if he got to be petted like this all the time. 

Bucky laughs. Steve can’t seem to breathe right again. “I wouldn’t mind having a personal kitten.”

Steve colours. “Sorry,” he blinks open his eyes. “I, I didn’t mean to say that out loud.”

Bucky grins. “Too bad.” He rubs his thumb into the muscles of Steve’s nape. “No take-backs allowed.” 

Steve watches as his reflection mirroring Bucky’s laugh. “I can start tomorrow.” He blushes when Bucky just stares. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncom–” He hastens to add.

“I’ll take your word for it.” 

Steve draws his eyes away from Bucky’s lips in the mirror to meet his eyes. They are crinkled at the corners and Steve kinda wants to stare forever. “Okay,” he says. Bucky starts rinsing his hair.

Steve finds out later from Bucky, after his haircut and very important information from Bucky telling him how to moisturise and style his hair which he is very happy to listen to as long as Bucky speaks, that He has been invited to the team’s bonding night by Nat. Steve didn’t know they could bring non-Avengers. 

“It’d be nice to see you there,” Bucky tells him earnestly and if Steve had any reservations about going, he doesn’t anymore. Not when the icy blue of Bucky’s eyes warms him better than a fire. He promises to go a little too enthusiastically, cheeks pinking when Bucky’s eyes crinkle at the corners again and gives him a knowing smile.

“I look forward to seeing you there, Steve.” And Steve swears his heart almost stutters from the way his rolls off Bucky’s tongue.

*

Steve enters the common room with trepidation. He doesn’t know why he’s so nervous, even knowing that his friends would welcome him warmly. Perhaps that’s why he’s nervous. He’s noticed immediately.

“Steve! Good to see you, man!” Sam calls out, giving him a fist bump and a beer.

“Indeed, friend Steven, I had hoped you would honour us with your presence.” 

Steve grins, his smile coming naturally around his friends. He looks around. Bucky isn’t here yet. Neither are Nat, Tony or Bruce. He sips his beer. “Where’s the rest?”

“On their way,” Clint says from above as he climbs out of the ceiling duct. 

Steve nods. Bucky isn’t here yet. He has time to change if he must, though he’s somewhat certain that a Henley and pyjama pants are okay. Maybe he’s a little underdressed; he probably should change before Bucky gets here and it’s too late. Steve almost walks out when Sam draws him into a conversation and distracts him from overthinking his outfit. Sam is a great friend like that. 

Sam does such a wonderful job at distracting him that he sees Bucky when he comes up to say ‘hello’ to Steve. Bucky’s in a sweater that makes him look soft and round and makes Steve want to squish him a little. He’s also in bright pink track pants. Steve thinks they look very comfy. 

They sit by each other during dinner, Bucky’s leg pressing warmly against his and when they all migrate to the couch for movie time, Bucky doesn’t hesitate to cuddle up. Steve’s heart thumps unevenly and he puts his arm around Bucky to snuggle him back. Bucky is soft, and Steve feels it beneath his comfy sweater. He likes that Bucky can be soft against his hard muscles, likes that Bucky doesn’t worry about getting the “perfect” body like the kind of people who only gave Steve their attention after the serum made him the perfect specimen of man. Steve thinks Bucky is kind of perfect. 

*

Two movies later, Bucky is yawning, which makes Steve yawn and he offers to give Bucky a ride home on his motorcycle. Bucky smiles sweetly and agrees as he looks up at Steve and Steve pictures them on his bike, Bucky clinging tightly to him. He gets flustered enough that Bucky gives him a pondering look. Steve runs away with his cheeks red, mumbling about grabbing his keys and meeting Bucky in the lobby. Bucky just waves and softly agrees.

Bucky clinging onto him as they rode through the city is so much better than Steve’s imagination. He savours the warm press of Bucky’s palms against his belly and chest. Steve is almost sorry when they arrive at Bucky’s brownstone. 

“We’re here,” he says. He takes off his helmet. Bucky pulls away and Steve nearly sighs in disappointment. He’s completely underestimated how much he enjoyed having Bucky close by. And like the gentleman he is, he walks Bucky to his front door, smiling gently down at Bucky. As Bucky looks up at him, the light of the streetlamps makes him think of kissing Bucky and that makes him blush because he’d be kissing Bucky!

“Thanks, Steve.” The laugh lines on Bucky’s face frames his icy blue eyes so perfectly. Bucky licks his lips, just a touch of his tongue. Steve feels warm. 

“Buck–” Steve wants to ask.

“Steve.” Bucky looks like he knows what Steve wants. “Would you like to go out for coffee or dinner sometime?”

Steve feels like one of the hot air balloons he’s seen at Coney Island. And he wants to say yes, wants to do spend whatever time he can with Bucky, but the Steve before he joined the army, the one with the huge chip off the shoulder, makes him ask. 

“Are you- Is this- I,” Steve stops himself in frustration. He hates that he’s still insecure even though Bucky doesn’t seem the kind to be so shallow. He’s just scared. Bucky doesn’t say anything; just takes Steve’s hand in his and waits patiently for Steve to gather his thoughts.

Steve sucks in a breath of the cool night air and pushes it out slowly. “Why?” he asks. He doesn’t want to insult Bucky by assuming he can only be worthy of romance when he’s Captain America. Bucky laces their fingers together and leads him inside. 

He takes Steve to his study. A room with shelves of books and a single table beneath a window. Steve takes in the posters and the biographies and the history books on the war and his heart thumps; he doesn’t know what to feel. 

“I majored in history,” Bucky says. “Then I realised I wanted to do something else. So, I went back and did hairstyling as a degree instead.” He lets go of Steve’s hand and Steve immediately misses the warmth. 

“Why did you ask me out?” Steve hates that his voice is small and insecure. 

“I’m a Captain America fanboy, Steve,” Bucky gestures at his books. “I know all there is to know about Captain America.” He turns to face Steve fully now, and Steve can’t swallow past the lump in his throat. “But I’ve never met him.”

Steve thinks he might cry, but he doesn’t want to do it in front of Bucky. Bucky who was supposed to see him. The real him. He stares at his shoes. Bucky touches his cheek. It surprises Steve enough that he looks back up. 

“I met Steve Rogers,” he says. “And I don’t have a major in Steve Rogers,” Steve has to smile at that, “but I like Steve Rogers and I want to know him the way people do when they are friends.” 

“Just friends?”

Bucky smiles. “Only if that’s what you want.”

The lump in his throat shrinks a little. “I- I’d like that, and maybe- maybe more,” he says. Bucky takes his hand.

They sit on the couch after Buck gets them hot cocoa. “It’s too late to be drinking coffee,” he says. Steve thinks he’d do whatever Bucky wants at this point. They snuggle up and drink their cocoa.

“I should go,” Steve whispers when Bucky nods off on his shoulder. 

Bucky hums and rubs his face sleepily in Steve’s chest. “You can stay. I don’t mind.”

“Okay.” Steve closes his eyes and breathes Bucky in.

*

Steve spends a bunch of time with Bucky and it doesn’t occur to him to check what his team is up to. He only sees it when Bucky comes up to the Avenger’s common room for the weekly gathering and the team very excitedly makes him go back to his floor to see something. Steve feels as if he’s being followed by a group of enthusiastic puppies. 

Bucky refuses to tell him anything when Steve looks at him questioningly.

They get off the elevator at his floor, the group tumbling out of the elevator behind him and Thor joyously moves him in the direction of his study. A room that Steve has never once bothered to use. 

Everyone stares expectantly at him when he stands before his door. 

“Aren’t you gonna open it?” Tony demands.

Steve looks at Bucky who smiles at him encouragingly. He opens the door and can’t help the quiet gasp. Bucky laces their fingers together. 

He takes in the eggshell painted walls and the light of setting sun filtering in from the windows; rays resting on the easel sat in the centre of the room. Steve cries.

Bucky wraps him in his arms and murmurs soft things as Steve tries his best to burrow his way into Buck’s shoulder. When he calms down a little, he detaches himself from Bucky and goes to hug everyone else. Even Tony, who lets him in and only makes a face for a second. He goes back to Bucky after that and they spend the night on Steve’s floor.

*

Steve heaves the boxes of their stuff through the door of their penthouse. Bucky takes the box on top and presses a quick kiss on Steve’s cheek. He laughs when Steve blushes; Steve always blushes when Bucky kisses him. They stack the last of their boxes in what will be their living room and Steve goes to feed Boobee, their cat. 

“I made hot cocoa.” Bucky hands Steve a mug and takes his other hand. They stand before their floor-to-ceiling glass windows and watch as the sun sets behind the skyline of Manhattan. “I love you.”

Steve releases Bucky’s hand; wraps an arm around his waist instead. “I love you too.”

Bucky rests his cheek on Steve’s shoulder, smiling when Steve presses kisses into his hair.


End file.
